The Games We Play
by Dirt Road Darlin
Summary: Logan and Marie are still "just friends" 7 years after meeting in Laughlin City. Will a sudden "scare" finally make them realize it's time to stop playing games?
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:**  
As I sit, I think of all the years that Logan and I have shared this dance. We've been doing it for so long that it's second nature to me, but I'm growing weary of the song. Yet, we keep spinning in circles and I wonder why.

**STORY NOTES:**  
This story takes place 7 years after Logan and Marie meet in Laughlin City. X3, in my mind, never happened and Jean never died in X2. Everything else should be explained as the story progresses.

**: - - - : - - - - : - x - : - - - - : - - - : **indicates a scene break  
**- - : ~ * ~ : - - **will appear before and after any flashbacks.

All flashbacks and/or inner thoughts are in italics.

**DISCLAIMER:**  
This fanfic has been written purely for entertainment value, with no money being made from this work. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners with no copyright infringement intended. The original characters/places/plot/etc. are the sole property of the author. Thank you.

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… **THE GAMES WE PLAY …**

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He's in the next room and I can barely stand it. I hear his latest conquest laugh through the thin walls and I bite my lip so hard that I feel the coppery taste of blood fill my mouth.

I hate him.

I hate her.

I love him.

I hate me.

I tell myself that this little "tryst" doesn't matter and that what Logan and I have goes much deeper than any "one night stand", but tonight even I can't make myself believe that bullshit. Tonight, I'm realizing that maybe I really am nothing at all to him; just some 'kid' he felt sorry for some 7 years ago.

Another giggle.

"Damn it," I curse under my breath, standing from the bed and turning to the face the wall that separates his room from mine. "Shut the hell up!" I yell, shocking even myself as I hear the words come tumbling out of my mouth.

Then there was silence.

Annoyed with myself, I change out of my pj's and head outside. I need the fresh air. I need to think.

A good twenty minutes later, the familiar giggle that had run me from the house is now outside. I look over my shoulder and see Logan walking his "friend" to her car. I shake my head and then turn my back to them.

It wasn't long after that, that I could feel his eyes upon me. I imagine that he's leaning against the balcony's railing, smoking a cigar and watching me, watching the stars.

I know I should go talk to him, but my feet just won't cooperate. Instead, they make tiny indentions into the dirt as I swing them back forth in front me, never attempting to rise from the marble bench I'm sitting on in Ororo's garden.

As I sit, I think of all the years that Logan and I have shared this dance. We've been doing it for so long that it's second nature to me, but I'm growing weary of the song. Yet, we keep spinning in circles and I wonder why.

"Wanna tell me what that was all about?" he asks with annoyance and I secretly damn his ability to be so freakin' quiet as I jump up from the bench.

Regaining my composure, I cross my arms as I look at him. "I was tryin' to get some sleep… nearly impossible with Miss Happy Pants in your room."

"Riiight," he mocks as he puts his cigar out with the bottom of his shoe.

For some reason, his attitude is really pissing me off and I begin to pace.

"What're you doing?" he asks, seemingly amused.

"What's it look like?" I yell, almost turning my ankle as the heel of my shoe catches in some kind of vine at my feet.

"Honestly?" he asks with that infamous cocked eyebrow. "It looks like you're trying to break your leg."

"Screw you, Logan."

"Hey," he growls as he grabs my arm, spinning me around to look at him. "Why are you so pissed?"

"Why are you?" I countered, intentionally trying to goad him.

"Gah, why do you always answer a question with a question?!"

"I don't know. Why do you always avoid a question by asking another one?"

"There ya go," he yells as he points at me. "Asking another question."

"Well, forgive me ol' mighty Wolverine, I didn't know…"

In less time than I could bat a pretty little lash, Logan picked me and pinned me against a tree, staring at me with warning eyes. "Don't push it, Marie. You don't call me that, got it? Not when it's you and me."

I know I should back off, but my pride won't let me. So, I stare at him, my brown eyes challenging him. "Or what?" I finally ask, the question as much of a dare as it was a question. My breathing is shallow, my chest heaving against his, causing a friction that had me on edge, and I waited for his reply.

Suddenly, the anger cleared from his hazel eyes and seemed to be replaced by something that seemed a lot more dangerous. Logan's face was so close to my own that our breaths were mingling and I could swear I felt the faintest touch of his lips on my own, his body pressing even harder into mine as his arms rested on either side of my arms.

"Logan…" I finally whispered, waiting nervously for what would come next. "Logan I…"

"Rogue!"

Cyclops.

"Damn it," I grumble. _Can't a girl catch a break around here?_

Scott's stern voice seemed to break whatever moment Logan and I had been trapped in and he steps away from me as if I had the plague.

"We've got a mission," Cyclops says calmly. "There's a little girl named Lucy. She's about an hour from here, so we're taking the car. Apparently the Aunt called and said that she's worried that her niece could be in trouble. We leave in 15."

I nod my understanding, watching as Cyclops heads back inside before I turn my attention back to Logan.

"I guess this will have to wait…" I start to say, but my words fall on deaf ears, because no one is there.

Logan is gone, and for the second time tonight, I curse the man's ability to be so damn freakin' quiet. Wrapping my jacket a little tighter to my body, I let a sigh escape my lips.

"So close…" I whisper as I head for the garage. "So damn close."

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	2. Chapter 2

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… **CHAPTER TWO …**

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45 minutes. That's how long I've been sitting in the passenger seat while a suddenly mute Cyclops drives us further and further into a shady part of town. I glance in his direction and see his jaw tighten.

"Just say it," I finally blurt out.

He gives me a quick look before turning his attention back to the road. "You're an adult," he says through gritted teeth.

"Yep."

"You don't need my approval."

"Nope."

"I just hope you know what you're doing, Rogue."

"I love him, Scott," I admit without a hint of shame.

"I know."

"I have for a long time."

"I know," he says again. "I just think you deserve better."

Finally, I see Cyke's "leader" facade crumble and it's just my friend sitting across from me. "He's been in my heart for a long time, Scott. I've tried to forget him, move on, find someone that everyone seems to find more "appropriate". But, he's it for me." I smile, softly, realizing my own admission. "He's always been it."

Scott nods his understanding and then gives a slight grin. "Yeah, well… just be careful."

My smile widens. "Always am, sugar."

"If you say so…"

I shake my head with amusement before turning my attention back to our surroundings. "You sure we're in the right neighborhood, Cyke?"

"Yeah. The apartment building should be right up here on the left."

Sure enough, the second Cyclops turns the corner, there's a small building with a rusted metal sign swinging by the entrance.

I squint as I try to make out the words. "Holly Hills Apartments," I mumble.

"That's the place," Cyclops confirms as he puts the car in park and turns off the ignition.

"You sure about this?" I ask, something just feeling "off" to me.

"Yeah. The Professor did a scan with Cerebro and there's definitely a mutant in the building."

Stepping out of the car, I hold my hand out in front of me, allowing Scott to go first. "Alright then, lead the way."

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Professor X had been right on the money with sending me and Cyclops on this mission. Lucy's mutation is very similar to Cyke's and the family had originally hailed from Alabama, so I was able to kind of sweet talk the family a bit, using all my southern charm.

After about an hour and a half, the family finally caved, agreeing that the 8 year old would be safer at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters, than here, amongst a community who were mostly "mutant haters".

"Will there…" came the small voice behind me as we walked down the stairwell, toward the car. "… Be others like me?"

I stop, turning to smile my sweetest smile, wanting desperately to assure her that she was gonna be safe. "Yes Lucy, there will. The school is full of kids just like you."

"I've never been around other people like me before. What if they still don't like me?"

"Now Lucy," I sooth as I stroke the girl's blonde tresses. "Who on earth could resist a sweetie like you?"

She smiles and I feel my own heart melt a little. "Come on," I tell her as I take another step. "We need to catch up to Mr. Sommers."

"No need," I hear the familiar voice say as Cyke comes walking back up the steps, a look of worry settled onto his features.

"What's wrong?" I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Nothing," he assures, as he glances down at Lucy. "We just need to find an alternative route."

"Alt…" I trail off, seeing three burly men coming up the stairwell behind Cyclops. I look at Lucy, faking a smile as I bend down to look at her. "Lucy, I want you to grab Mr. Sommer's hand and don't let go of it, okay?"

She nods, a look of confusion on her face.

"Rooftop," I say softly and watch as Cyke nods in understanding.

Within seconds, the three of us were taking the steps as quickly as we could until we finally reached the door that lead to the roof.

"It's locked," I tell Cyke as I move out of the way.

Taking his glasses off, Cyclops focuses on the door handle, a red beam cutting the metal door with ease.

I push the door open and hear the footsteps of the men close behind us. Quickly, we do a scan of the rooftop and I see the escape ladder to the right of the building.

"There," I yell as I point. "Take her."

"No," Cyke yells. "You take her."

_"Men,"_ I think to myself. "Cyke, take her. I'll be right behind you. I can hold them off long enough for you to get to the car. Lucy needs you more than I do."

"Rogue…"

"Do it, Scott!" I order. "We don't have time to argue about this."

Knowing I'm right, Cyclops sighs.

Again, I bend down to Lucy. "You go with Mr. Sommers, okay? I'll be with you guys in just a little bit."

Nodding, Lucy grabbed Scott's hand and I watch as they disappear over the side of the building.

4 seconds later, my fan club arrives…

I take out three with no problem; using nothing more than a few tactical moves and a 2x4 I'd picked up by the door. But the fourth turns out to be a different story. That sneaky little bastard comes of nowhere, holding a kid no more than 13 in front of him, using him as a human shield.

I rare back the 2x4 and get ready to swing.

"Put it down," the pudgy little guy yells at me, tightening his grip on the kid. "I… don't wanna hurt him, but I will."

My mind screams that something's wrong with this picture, but it's not like you have a lot of time to interpret mind games when you're in the middle of a battle now, do ya?

The guy comes toward me, the kid being drug along, and he tells me to just act all calm. I throw my weapon and then raise my hands into the air to signal my submission. The man moves forward, loosening his grip on the kid. With one swift movement, I lay a roundhouse kick to his exposed left side and he immediately hits the ground, the kid shoved out of the way.

"Stay down," I yell as I make my way toward the kid, now staring at me with is large green eyes.

"It's okay now," I tell him, my gloved hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Not for you," he mutters. No sooner are the words out of his mouth than I feel the sting of metal sliding like butter through my leather and into the skin beneath it. Again and again the blade slices into me, until I can no longer stand, falling to the ground.

"Good job, son," I hear the older man say as he rises from the ground, coming over to ruffle the kid's hair. "Got your first mutie," he tells the teen, a wide smile of pride showing on his face.

I don't have time to think of the whole injustice of it all. I need to move. I'm losing blood… a lot of blood… and I need help.

With all my might, I drag myself to the edge of the rooftop, looking down to see if Cyclops and Lucy have made it down safely. Imagine my surprise when I see that no one is there. No Cyclops. No Lucy. No car.

I'm not shocked by their absence because I know that Lucy's well being is first and foremost. I guess what I'm feeling is sadness. Sadness, that it all went wrong; that the end is coming on a rooftop surrounded by a bunch of bigots who think that there's something wrong with being "different"; sadness that I've never kissed Logan. And now, that I never will.

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	3. Chapter 3

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… **CHAPTER THREE …**

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Leaning against the rooftop's edging, I close my eyes until only a small sliver of my sight is available to me; feigning a death that I'm pretty sure is actually on it's way.

"We better get outta here," someone chimes in from the cluster of shadows across from me.

"Yeah… we best skedaddle."

Skedaddle. I smile internally. I haven't heard that word since I was a little girl sittin' on my Granddaddy's knee.

"What do we do about that one?"

I'm pretty sure he's referring to me.

"Leave her."

The rest of the men must agree, because I hear a sudden shuffle of feet and then the shadows are gone and I'm alone… just me.

I let me hand travel down my side, looking for my communicator. I find it resting against my side and pull it loose from my belt strap.

"Cyke?" I say into the small electronic device.

Nothing… not even static.

"Cyclops?" I say again, before realizing that the device had been damaged. Apparently "Aaron" had stabbed me AND the communicator. DAMN.

"Now what?" I say aloud.

I bring my hand back down to try to cover the wounds at my side. In the distance, I see a shadow again. Someone's here. I can only imagine that it's the teen's father who has come back to "dispose" of me.

As the shadow gets closer and closer, I begin tugging at the leather gloves that cover my hands. Desperate times call for desperate measures, ya know?

"Lying down on the job?" A voice asks just seconds before kneeling down next to me.

The voice is familiar, yet I say nothing. I strain my eyes, tilting my head a bit to get a better view of the man at my side.

"I hate uncomfortable silences," he finally blurts out.

I grin. I can't help myself.

"John."

"Pyro," he corrects.

"Pyro," I repeat.

"Your friends left you behind," he tells me, a certain air of sarcasm oozing from him as he mutters the word "friends".

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," I tell him, my dang southern drawl even thicker than normal because I'm in no mood to try and sound all proper. "Whatcha ya doin' here?"

"Apparently, I'm saving your ass."

You know that sayin' about never lookin' a gift horse in the mouth? No? Well, I forgot it too.

"Why?" I ask, unable to really figure out his motives.

"Because it's too pretty of an ass to be left to rot on this rooftop." He smiles then and I realize how much I've missed him. "Come on… let's get you out of here."

I feel one arm wrap around me as the other takes my hand and begins to pull me up from the ground. I hiss at the pain that shoots through me.

"Be quiet," he orders.

"Well, you try gettin' up with a side full of holes and see how quiet you are!"

"Pussy," he teases.

"Dick!" I retort.

Again, that devious smile was on his lips as he stares at me, seemingly amused at my attempt to banter with him despite the circumstances. "Well, now that we know our body parts, think we can get out of here?"

"Yeah," I mumble as I nod in agreement. "I'm all too ready to get the hell out of here."

"Ditto."

It's funny, really, at just how easily we step back into the role of "comrades", despite the fact that we are now supposed to be on opposite sides of the "war".

Slowly, John… Pyro… leads me off the roof of the building. We step inside the fire escape door and I see a litter of bodies, all in various stages of consciousness, strewn across several sets of steps. Leaning smugly against the wall, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick, is the man responsible for this sight… Sabretooth.

I stiffen at the sight of him. After all, wherever this man is, trouble is sure to follow, and I've got enough trouble of my own. He looks me up and down then and I wonder if I'm the next body to join the heap at his feet.

He must read my panic because he looks at me then, a smile somewhere between amusement and irritation, and casually says, "Calm down, frail."

"Who the hell you callin' frail?" I snap. The damn heathen actually rolled his eyes at me in response.

"Spunk," he says as he looks at Pyro. "No wonder the runt likes her."

Pyro snorts in amusement and I feel myself growing more irritated by the second, half from the joke at my expense and half because I don't really understand what the "joke" is.

Seeming to sense my frustration, or maybe feeling the continuous blood loss from my body since it trickled over his hand, Pyro looks at 'Tooth and frowns. "She needs a healer."

"Don't look at me," Sabretooth says calmly, eyeing me up and down, yet still leaning casually against the wall.

"But you're…"

"Not doin' it," he tells Pyro firmly.

"You're scared of her," Pyro says with a laugh.

"Watch it, boy," the taller, deadlier man warns. "I'm scared of nothin'. Got it?"

"Then what?"

"I know what happens to the people she touches. She gets their powers and memories and shit. The only one that will ever know what's up here," he says as he taps his head, "is me. Nobody else. Nobody. Understand?"

"Yeah." Pyro looks at me as if to say sorry, and suddenly I understand that my chance of surviving this mess seem less than bright.

"She's going to die if we don't get her some help."

"I didn't say I wouldn't help," he tells Pyro, glancing at me for a mere second. "I just said I wasn't going to be the one to do the healing."

I want to smack him, but really, I don't think I have the strength to do it. As it is, I'm barely holding my own weight.

"Well, whatever we're doing, we need to do it quick. These guys are starting to stir and she's… not looking too good."

"You got a point."

And just like that, two large arms wrap around me and lift me into a cradling embrace.

"Put me down," I order half-heartedly, but Sabretooth just looks at me, that amused smile back on his face as he proceeds to carry me down the stairwell.

Pyro tries desperately to keep up as Sabretooth takes the steps three at a time. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on as tightly as I can, and I begin thanking God for sending help. A second later I'm cursing the Devil, because only that horned beast would somehow find it funny to send in the enemy to be my damn hero right now.

"You still with me?" 'Tooth asks as we finally exit the building.

"Uh huh," I say softly, welcoming the sun's warmth on my chilled body.

"Where to now?" Pyro asks from behind us.

"Go get the car from the alley. We'll take it as far as we can until we can get underground."

"What about the weapons we just bought?"

Aha! There it was! The real reason my heroes were in the neighborhood.

"Idiot," 'Tooth grumbles out.

"Sorry."

"Empty out the backseat so we have room for her. We'll get Magneto his loot after."

"Got it."

"Good."

"Rogue?"

I turn my head in Pyro's direction, in an attempt to see him a bit clearly.

"You're gonna be okay. Just hang in there a bit longer."

"Okay."

A few minutess later, I feel myself being placed in the backseat of an SUV, a jacket being thrown over me for an extra layer of warmth.

"Rest now," Pyro tells me from the passenger seat as he closes his door. "We'll have you fixed up in no time."

"I hope so," I say earnestly.

Though I know he doesn't mean for me to hear it, I do. Right as the motor starts up, to take us to God knows where, Pyro whispers two little words. "Me too."

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	4. Chapter 4

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… **CHAPTER FOUR …**

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I'm not thinking clearly, I know. I keep seeing Logan in front of me, yet I know he's not really here. He's definitely present in my head though, and he's not the least bit happy.

_"I said, get yur ass up, kid!" _

"Don't call me a kid," I warn.

"You say something?" Pyro asks from the front seat, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Leave her alone," Sabretooth chimes in.

"But she…"

"I said leave her alone. She ain't talkin' to us."

"We're the only ones here, Sabre…"

"Listen boy… she's talkin' to ghosts."

"To gho…. oh."

"Let her be," Sabretooth orders. "Let her chat with 'em if it'll keep her awake."

Without another word, Pyro turns back around in his seat.

_"You jus' gonna lay there and die on me?" _

"Not tryin' to," I tell him. Really, I'm not.

"Then get up! Start fightin!"

"Who?" I ask. "Pyro and 'Tooth?"

_"Nah, we'll let them live… for now." _

"Then who?" I ask. God, even in my head Logan doesn't make sense.

_"It's not a who, it's a what." _

"Make sense!"

_"Fight the urge, darlin'. Fight the urge to give in. We… ain't finished yet." _

"Didn't know we ever started."

_"Yeah, you did. You know as well as I do that we started a long time ago." _

"Nope. You never let it."

_"I did." _

"You didn't."

As the car comes to a stop, I tell the Logan in my head to shut up. I force myself to sit up in the seat and try to figure out where we're at. It's a tunnel. I think it's leading under the subway station, but I can't be sure.

"Time to move," Sabretooth says as he and Pyro exit the car.

A second later, my door opens and 'Tooth is scooping me up in his arms, giving me no time to argue.

Pyro joins in and the two of them position me on Sabretooth's back, neither really filling me in on what the hell we're doin'.

"Wrap your arms around me."

I do as he says.

"This won't be fun, but it'll get us there faster."

"What about me?" Pyro asks as he closes the car door.

'Tooth just grunts. "Try to keep up."

He's right. It's not fun. We head into the tunnel and 'Tooth hunches down to all fours and takes off like some wild animal. I wrap my arms tighter around him, cinch my knees at his sides and hold on for dear life.

5 or 10 minutes later, I think, we reach what I assume is our destination.

"Ease off," My "ride" tells me.

Slowly, I inch my way off of him and notice the blood that's now staining his jacket. As I step away from him and lean against the damp wall of the tunnel, I mumble, "Sorry."

Now standing, he grins. "I'll send you the cleaning bill."

I nod in amusement and then feel my knees buckle on me.

'Tooth catches me. "I'm beginning to think you just like being in my arms, frail," he teases.

"You wish," I counter, as he carries me over and lays me down on a makeshift bed of cardboard boxes and tattered clothing.

"Stay here," he tells me, like I really have any choice in the matter.

"Where ya goin'?" God that sounded needy.

Sabretooth seems amused by this as well and he winks. Damn him.

"Gotta talk business."

Pyro finally emerges from the tunnel and assesses the situation before coming to my side.

"You doing okay?"

I cock an eyebrow that I'm sure would have rivaled the mighty Wolverine's.

"Dumb question," Pyro answers, more to himself than me.

"I'm cold," I tell my old friend and he nods his understanding, taking his jacket and laying it over me.

_"FIGHT!"_ I hear Logan scream in my head, but I'm tired. I just wanna close my eyes for a minute…

"Hey," Pyro yells as he shakes me. "Wake up!"

"I'm awake," I say, eyes fluttering open.

"He's going to heal you," He tells me as he points to the man standing between him and Sabretooth.

The man, no more than 25, kneels beside me. His eyes, large and brown, peer down at me; they seem so much older than the body that houses them.

"Turn your skin on," Sabretooth orders as he stares down at me.

"I won't!" I half-yell, suddenly in a state of panic.

"Do it or die, frail. Choice is all yours."

Leave it to 'Tooth to put it in such blunt terms.

"I could kill him," I explain, the thought alone sending me into overload.

Sabretooth is at me then, kneeling down so he's at eye level. "No, you won't," he tells me, and for a moment there's something in his eyes that calms me. "You take enough to close the wound. Enough to get you back to your team, where they can take care of you."

"It's okay," the man-child tells me as he pats my gloved hand. "You need my help."

"But…"

"Hush now," he instructs as he strokes my hair, trying to calm my frayed nerves. "You need the gift I have, I need the money it will bring."

Guilt fills me. It's a trade of sorts. Sabretooth has offered money in exchange for my healing. I feel sick at the thought.

"Please," he begs, just loud enough for me to hear. "We… you and I… both need this."

I want to cry.

"Turn your skin on," I hear the man whisper. "I'll do the rest."

Hell, what choice did I have? Like he said, he needs the money, I need the healing. It's a simple transaction, right? That's what I'm telling myself anyway. It's just like buying an apple at the market, yet I know it couldn't be more different.

"You make sure you pull away in time," I tell the man.

"We'll make sure," 'Tooth tells me as he gives me a wink.

I close my eyes and try to shut out my surroundings. The darkness envelopes me and I think I'm starting to nod off to sleep when I feel two calloused hands touch my face.

_One second… _Micah, _that's his name_, is playing in a park. He runs after a tattered soccer ball, but trips and falls; breaking his ankle. Moments later, the bone is set, the pain gone… his mutation has awakened.

_Two seconds…_ He's telling a girl he loves her and wants to marry her. She laughs in his face, telling him she could never marry one of his kind. I feel his heart break. We mourn together.

_Three seconds…_ He owns a local shop that's been vandalized 5 times in as many weeks. Desperation fills his soul as he ponders the idea of closing and moving on.

_Four seconds…_ He finds a home with other mutants who are in hiding. He's finds love too. I envy him.

_Five seconds…_ The pull stops and I open my eyes. Micah lies beside me in a state of 'limbo'.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"He will be," a woman tells me as she strokes Micah's hand.

"Please tell him thank you for me."

She nods and smiles.

"Are _you_ okay?" Pyro interrupts, as he flicks that damn lighter.

I touch my side and still feel the gashes from the knife. My insides though? I can feel them trying to knit themselves back together.

"Some," I say, not revealing that things are still out of sorts.

"Time to go then," Sabretooth says as he throws money down at Micah's feet.

"You know what? Your bedside manner sucks!"

"Yeah, I'll try to work on that."

God, you gotta love the person who invented sarcasm.

"What now?" I ask, wobbling alongside Pyro as we head out of the tunnel.

"Now you go home."

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I release my hold on a lamppost once Pyro hails a cab and it pulls in beside us. I look at him, suddenly missing the friend… the man… that I know will never return to the Xmen. 'Tooth is leaning against his car, pretending not to notice us.

"The real reason you saved me?" I ask.

Pyro shrugs. "Because we were friends once."

"Still are," I tell him. "And him?" I ask, glancing in 'Tooth's direction.

"Who knows?"

I was sure that was gonna be the best I got, but to my surprise, 'Tooth walks over to me. Apparently he had heard my question.

He stares at me for a minute, as if trying to decide what to say, before answering. "Just repayin' an old debt."

I glance at Pyro and then back at 'Tooth. "O-kay."

"I owe the runt," he blurts out. "I… took something from him a long time ago, so now I'm giving him something back. Makes us even."

"But…"

He gives me no chance to delve into the subject further, simply walking back to his car and slipping inside the driver's seat.

"Don't ask questions you'll never get the answers to, Rogue." Pyro tells me. "Just be grateful for the moment."

I look at Pyro in shock. "Well, listen to you gettin' all philosophical on me," I tease.

"Shut it," he warns, a smile on his face that he's unable to mask.

"Thank you," I tell him as he allows me the pleasure of a small hug.

"Don't mention it," he whispers, as I feel one hand reluctantly rub my back. "Seriously… don't mention it. You'll ruin my rep."

"And we can't have that, now can we?"

When the cabbie honks his horn, I give Pyro a look that begs him to come back with me, but see his answer before the words ever escape my lips.

"Until next time," he teases.

"Yeah."

I slip into the taxi and close the door. I shift in my seat until I'm able to look out the back window of the car. I see them there, sitting in their seats, staring back at me. We stay this way, me watching them watching me until the car turns the corner and I no longer have the option.

I sigh as I turn back around in the seat, letting my head rest against the window; my mind in overload as I try to take in the day's events.

A friend left me for dead. Enemies saved me. How's that for a mindf**k?

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	5. Chapter 5

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… **CHAPTER FIVE …**

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I can't tell you how long the ride to Westchester took. Somewhere between the cabbie asking, "How's your day been?" and "Where are you from originally?" I closed my eyes and tried to forget the pain still coursing through my body.

It worked… for a while.

"Miss? Miss?" came the repetitive words, followed closely by a gentle shake of my shoulder.

"Miss?" the cabbie says again as I finally become alert enough to comprehend him.

I look up at him as he smiles down at me, the sun shining bright behind him. "Yeah?"

"You're home, Miss," he tells me softly as he points to the large metal gates that surround the school. "Do you need help inside?"

_"Yes,"_ I thought, but shake my head "no" instead. I never bring anyone inside the gates… just can't be too careful, ya know? "I can make it from here," I tell him.

He furrows his brow and I can tell he doesn't believe me.

"How much do I owe ya?" I ask as I take the calloused hand he's offering me, rising from my seat in his cab.

"Nothing," he tells me as he shakes his head in protest. "Your friends paid me before we left."

"Friends," I say aloud, a small laugh escaping my lips before I can protest.

"Something funny?"

"Long story," I whisper.

He nods and frowns before helping me over to the gates.

"Be safe," he yells out to me before getting back in the bright yellow vehicle.

"I'll try," I say with a smile, not moving from my spot until he's completely out of my line of sight.

I turn to punch in my security code, finally looking down and taking notice of my bare, bloodstained hands. "Damn," I say aloud. "I loved that pair of gloves." Funny thing is, I don't even remember losing them. Did I leave them on the rooftop? Did I take them off in the tunnel? Hell if I know!

I shake my head, irritated with myself, before punching in my security code and waiting for the sea of wrought iron bars to part.

I walk, though it's sluggish, straight up the driveway and head for the entrance to the school. I open the door to the foyer and almost stumble inside. My feet refuse to pick themselves up, choosing instead to drag along the wooden floor. I can only imagine that I'm looking pretty damn close to those zombies in that old George Romero flick.

I immediately notice the silence. There are no students in the hall, nor are there any sounds coming from behind any of the closed doors.

_"Weird,"_ I think to myself as I grab hold to a banister that leads upstairs.

"Almost there," I tell myself, knowing there's at least two dozen hallways and corridors to get through before I'm anywhere near the damn Med Lab.

As I try to gain my bearings before attempting my task, I suddenly become aware of a commotion. A trinity of voices carries through the air, though their bodies were elsewhere inside the large mansion. One stood out. Logan.

"We don't leave people behind!" I hear him say.

"Logan, I had to," Scott yells in return. "I had Lucy and we were outnumbered. You… know the protocol."

"I know we don't leave our people out there to fight a fuckin' battle by themselves. It was supposed to be a simple lil' pickup, One Eye. How the hell do you screw that up?"

"I did what I had to do."

"Humph!"

I could hear the growl that accompanied that "grunt".

"I did a scan, Logan," Jean pipes in. "I couldn't get a read on her. The Professor tried to…"

"Can it, Red. I don't wanna hear that shit from you too."

I can't help but take some kind of petty solace in the fact that he's upset… even if I am still mad at him.

I resign myself to the fact that I need to get to Logan. If I can get to him, he can get me to the lab and everything will be fine. All I have to do is let go of the banister…

_"Not sure that's a good idea, kid."_

"Shut up," I tell the Logan in my head. "It's better than tryin' to make it there on my own."

_"I agree with him, child. You need to stay where you are."_

Great. Magneto's chimin' in now. This is what happens when I'm too tired to keep all the doors locked to those rooms in my head.

"I don't need your advice, Mags." I say, a hint of defiance in my voice.

With that in mind, I loosen my grip from the banister. The minute I'm standing on my own, I feel my leg muscles tightening, the walk from the driveway causing them to cramp up. I take one step and immediately feel my knees buckle on me. Instinctively, my hands start grasping at air that can no sooner help me than the man in the moon. I hit the floor with a pronounced "thud" and watch the room spin as I lie there, curling my body into a fetal position as if it will somehow stop the pain.

In that moment, as my world grows darker and darker, I say the only word that I can think to say. "Damn…"

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I can hear the beeping of a machine but my eyes refuse to open. The room, a little colder than I expected, sends a shiver through my body. My hand slowly moves upward, until it reaches my face, and I begin pulling at the tubing that's forcing oxygen through my nose.

A hand stops my attempt and my eyes suddenly flutter open, though my vision is blurred. It takes a minute for my eyes to focus, but when they do, they are met by a large, furry man peering down at me.

Hank.

"Greetings and salutations, my dear." A bright smile is on his face, made brighter still by the stark contrast of his blue fur. "I'm delighted to see you are awake."

I nod in return as I try to swallow, my eyes still trying to focus as the overhead fluorescent light tries to blind me.

As Hank continues his once over to make sure that I've recovered, I look up at him and try to talk. "How long?" I ask hoarsely.

Thankfully, Hank seems to know the question I'm trying to ask and smiles sympathetically. "Two days."

"Two days?" I repeat, trying to push myself up on the bed.

"Now, Rogue, you need to lie down," he tells me in a stern voice as he pushes my shoulders back onto the bed. "No sudden movements just yet. Though you appear to be in tip top shape now, I would prefer you take it easy."

I look at him with mild annoyance, wanting nothing more than to get out of the Med Lab. I hate this place, and even now, I'm not sure if it's my own or Logan's memories that make me feel so uncomfortable in places such as this. But either way, I want out.

"Hank, I'm fine," I tell him as he allows me to push the button that will elevate the head of the hospital bed.

"My dear, Rogue, I know you are eager to leave my company, but allow me this small favor by staying a while longer while I make sure that you are healthy."

He's humoring me, I know, because he could easily be a dick and order me to stay. But Hank, God bless him, always tries to make me feel as if I have a choice in things. So, I return his kind gesture and nod in submission, leaning back against the hard foam mattress as I sigh.

"You have a visitor," the good doctor tells me as he taps the glass behind me.

I hear the screech of a metal chair as it slides across the flooring. Not long after I hear the "swish" of the doors opening and hurried footsteps making their way to me.

"Hey there," a deep, throaty voice says as I look up to see concerned hazel eyes staring at me.

"Hey yourself."

Logan's hand is softly stroking my hair as he sighs. "You gave me one hell of a scare there, kid."

I try not to be irritated at the ever-present "kid".

"Sorry," I say softly as I try to clear my throat. I finally let myself look at Logan and can tell he's tired. His body may heal quickly, but I can still tell a lot about him just by looking in his eyes.

"You need some sleep."

"Damn, you're bossy," he says with a laugh. "Ain't even been awake ten minutes and already orderin' me around."

I smile cockily. "Some things never change, huh?"

"Guess not," he says softly.

Seconds pass in silence before he finally blurts out, "What happened out there?"

I can hear the pain in his voice.

"I was left for dead is what happened," I blurt out, my tone a little angrier than I had intended.

He's shocked at my anger at him. "Darlin'?"

"Dammit," I mumble under my breath. I love and hate when he calls me that. Granted, the term is much better than "kid", but right now I'm not in the mood to hear it. But, he says that word, and I turn into a freakin' pile of mush.

"You wanna tell me what happened… without the smart ass commentary this time?"

"You first," I tell him as I look at him with defiance.

He nods, knowing I won't let this go. "So damn stubborn," he says through gritted teeth. "Like a dog with a damn bone."

"Yeah well, I come by it honest."

"Shouldn't you be asking Scooter this instead of me?"

"No," I tell him honestly. "I'd rather hear it from you. You'll… tell it to me straight."

He sighs, but understands my request.

"Scott said you all were taking fire," he begins as he runs a hand through his hair. "He was makin' his way down the fire escape, but there were two guys on the ground waiting on them. He fought 'em off and got Lucy to the car."

"Lucy? Is she?"

"She's fine. She's been glued to the firecracker's hip since she got here."

I smile. I'm glad she's okay.

"Do you want me to go on?"

I nod.

"Well, Scott got to the car and he tried to use the communicator to get in touch with you. You didn't answer."

"It got screwed up in the fight."

"When One Eye couldn't get you to answer, he called in to Jeannie. She did a quick scan and said… she couldn't get a life reading on you."

I flinch at the words.

"Lucy was scared, Scott couldn't get a life reading and the pricks were coming for round two. With Lucy, he didn't have much of a choice but to go."

"I see," I say sadly, my eyes unwilling to meet his.

"Scott really didn't have a choice," he mumbled and I could see him working that out in his head. Kind of like, he let his own anger at Scott go because he finally understood that there had been no other choice.

"Jeannie said…"

"I know what Jeanie said!" I yell as I glare at him. I don't know why she annoys me. Eh, that's a lie. I know exactly why… because of Logan. I think he still wants her. Hell, all of 'em do. Scott, Logan, even the Professor if he was honest. It's not her fault that she was born looking like she just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret magazine, but damn, does she have to have 'em all? Couldn't she just be happy with Scott and let Logan move on to someone who loves him? After all, Scott is her husband.

"It's not her fault, Darlin'." Logan tells me, which only makes it worse. "You know you've always been hard to get a reading on."

"Yeah," I finally say, rollin' my eyes as I say the word. It's true though. I'm hard to pinpoint… always have been… the Professor thinks it's because of all the "guests" I have running 'round in my head.

"Anyway, some of the team went back to look for you, but didn't have any luck."

"You didn't go?" I ask, my eyes finally meeting his.

"Wasn't _allowed_ to."

"Why?"

I watch him stiffen in his chair as he suddenly seems to become uncomfortable. "They said my mind wasn't in the right place and that I wouldn't be an asset to the team in my _condition_."

Condition. I can't help but grin at the word. "Were ya worried about me, sugar?"

He nods and I almost think I see a tear in his eyes.

"The team came back empty handed," he begins again, not giving me the chance to ask any more questions. "I was us… talking to Scott and Jean when I thought I heard your voice."

"My voice?"

Oh. Super- hearing. Forgot about that.

"Yeah. I came running and found you passed out in the foyer. I picked you and brought you here."

"Thank you," I say earnestly.

"I… was afraid I was too late."

I nod, knowing that feeling all too well.

"You were unconscious, so your skin wasn't "on" for me to help you. All Hank could do was give you some blood and observe. The rest was up to you."

"Sorry," I say, somehow feeling the need to apologize.

"No, I'm sorry. I said I'd take care of ya, and I let you down."

I snap my head up to look at him. "No you didn't."

"Yeah," he says sadly. "Yeah, I did. I was useless. And, do you know how damn frustrating that is? All I could do was sit and wait."

"Well, I'm awake now. So, you can go off guard duty."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

I look down at my hands and suddenly become aware that someone has "bathed me". The blood on my hands, under my nails, the whole deal… it's all gone. I'm clean. Pure as the driven snow. Heh.

"Your turn."

"Huh?" I ask, my eyes still staring at my hands.

"What happened out there? How'd you get out? How'd you get here? All of it. I need to know it all. Tell me something'… anything'… cause it has to be better than what I've imagined."

I look at him and see the desperation in his eyes that match his voice. So, I take a deep breath and begin.

"Pyro and Sabretooth," I say calmly.

I see a yellow glow flicker in his eyes. "What did you say?" he asks, his voice slightly different than just minutes before.

"Pyro and Sabretooth," I repeat. "They're the reason I'm alive."

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